


HOME

by orphan_account



Category: Cold Mountain (2003), Cold Mountain (novel), Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, First Love, Jim will find his way back to Spock no matter what, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, this is gonna get sad I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:49:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new timeline is created when the smallest divergence changes the course of destiny.</p>
<p>Amanda succumbs to illness when Spock is thirteen and Jim is eleven. Spock's, Jim's, and the Enterprise's futures are altered forever.</p>
<p>Rating, tags, and warnings will be updated as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HOME

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier, where Jim is Inman. I've posted this in separate chapters before. After some proofreading and editing, here is the final version of the first chapter. Expect around four more.
> 
> Also expect a lot of bad stuff happening to Jim. I'm so sorry.

"Hey there," Jim said, smiling at the stranger before him. He'd never been all that shy before, and he didn't plan to start being shy today. At least that's what his mother always told him. The boy sitting cross legged beneath the pear tree looked up at Jim, left eyebrow raised comically. Jim tried to do it back, but only succeeded in making his face look funny.

"My name's Jim," he told the stranger, holding out his hand. The boy looked appalled at the outstretched digits and shook his head. Jim's hand dropped to his side.

"Well, what's your name?" he said, after a long pause. There was another moment of hesitation.

"My name's S'chn T'gai Spock, of Vulcan," he finally said. Jim's eyes widened as he tried to wrap his mind around all the information conveyed in that single sentence. The first thing he did in response was try and say the name back. His tongue clumsily butchered the words and, again, the boy on the ground raised his eyebrow.

"It is likely too difficult a name for most humans to pronounce. They do not have the same vocal capabilities as Vulcans. You may call me Spock."

"Alright. My full name's actually James Tiberius Kirk," he said proudly "...of Earth. You might have trouble pronouncing Tiberius. When I was little, Mom said I couldn't say it right so I told people my name was James Tiger Kirk. That sounds cooler than Tiberius, anyway. You can call me Jim."

"James Tiberius Kirk," Spock sounded off effortlessly. Jim pursed his lips, but shrugged it off and continued.

"So you're really a Vulcan? That's cool. I've never met one. Which is funny 'cause Mom says Vulcan's in the Federation like Earth, and I've met other people in it. I even know a girl who's from Orion, and they aren't even the Federation. She's really cute, that girl," Jim rattled. Spock seemed to warm up to him, he noticed. Spock stood up to face him and Jim felt a small victory.

"Vulcans are not acclimatized for the cool temperatures of most of Earth. Most Vulcans would not be amenable to living here permanently," Spock informed Jim. Jim seemed interested in this new bit of information, but before he could say anything, the breeze blew his direction and several of the pear blossoms floated to the ground.

"Look, it's snowing!" he laughed, excitedly. He reached up to shake a branch over Spock, who was taller than he, and the petals floated into his hair, sticking in the glossy black. Jim laughed.

"You've got flowers in your hair," he told him, chuckling.

"Obviously," Spock responded, brushing out the petals in on swift motion. He sat back down, crossing his legs. This time, however, Jim sat down with him.

"So what are you doing on Earth then? It's only spring, so it's not very hot yet. My dad says it don't ever get very hot here in San Fra-a-ahh—" before he could finish, he sneezed, the pollen in the air agitating him. "Ugh, sorry about that. Allergies. In the springtime my face feels all itchy like it's covered in spiderwebs and I sneeze all the time." Spock nodded his understanding.

"I believe the appropriate human term is, 'bless you'," Spock responded, eyes downward.

"Oh yeah, thanks," Jim said. There was a moment of silence that demanded to be filled, so Jim searched for something new to say.

"So what's Vulcan like?" he asked, finally. He already knew a little about it, but he didn't know what else to say.

"It is a desert planet, with very little flora and fauna. It is larger than Earth and therefore has a stronger gravitational pull. You would feel heavier and slower there. There is less oxygen in the atmosphere as well, and most humans find it difficult to breathe. My mother has occasionally visited a doctor to make sure her lungs are not being damaged by the stress."

"Is she a human? Woah! That makes you, like, one of a kind!" Spock averted his gaze again, ears hot. Jim, as if on cue, reached up and touched one of his ears. Spock flinched.

"Sorry, sorry! Did that hurt?" Jim pulled his hand back. He made a mental note not to touch Spock again without permission.

"I was not expecting you to do that, but the sensation was... not unpleasant," Spock said. Jim ignored how that made his belly feel, all fluttery and warm.

"So, uh..." Jim faltered, unsure of what to say. Again, the strange boy had left his thoughts scattered and he couldn't remember what he had planned to say earlier. Spock waited, making eye contact with Jim. This time, it was Jim who averted his gaze and felt his face heat up.

"How old are you, Jim?" Spock asked. Jim was elated that Spock had taken the initiative and shown interest this time around.

"I'm eleven, I just had a birthday!" he said proudly, smiling. "What about you?"

"I am thirteen-point-three years old. I, too, recently passed the anniversary of my birth, though on Vulcan we do not celebrate this as humans do."

"Oh," Jim said, thinking. "How come you're here on Earth?" Spock, unexpectedly, did not answer. Instead, he looked up and away at the pear tree and noted a spider crawling on the branch above him. The breeze picked up slightly and Jim wrinkled his nose.

"Don't you hate that smell?" Jim asked, without waiting for an answer to his earlier question. He was referring to the fishy stink of the pear blossoms. Pretty to look at, but the scent was gag-worthy and attracted a great many bees and other bugs.

"It is a smell, it does not evoke an emotional response of any kind."

"Well, I don't like it. It smells like fish. Let's go sit somewhere else."

"Where do you propose we go?"

"Well..." Jim looked around the park. He noted a heavily robed figure in a bench. His first reaction was to be creeped out, knowing his mother had said to avoid strange looking men in the park. But when he looked closer, he could see the robed figure's attire, too heavy for the nice weather, resembled Spock's.

"Hey, is that your dad?" he asked, forgetting that he had wanted to move.

"Yes, that is my father."

"What are you two doing here anyway? Where's your mom?" Jim frowned. 

"My mother is..." Spock paused, expression darkening. "My mother is deceased. We came here to observe the human traditional funeral as per her final wishes. Her funeral was yesterday." Jim blushed, embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry to hear that... Are you okay?" he asked. He winced as he realized that it was probably a very stupid question, but Spock was unreadable as he responded.

"I am... 'okay'," he said. Jim smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry I pried..." he apologized. Spock looked at him, finally.

"It is not your fault. You could not have known." 

There was a moment of heavy silence between the two, broken only by birdsong and the breeze through the branches, making it snow odorous petals once again.

"Do you know the story of the City Mouse and the Country Mouse?" Jim asked slowly. Spock took a moment to answer.

"No," he answered simply.

"It's about two mice, one from the city and one from the country. City Mouse comes to visit Country Mouse, 'cause they're cousins or something, and he really likes the country. It's real quiet and the food is different and good and it's nice and warm. He tells Country Mouse what it's like in the city, and Country Mouse is curious, so he goes home with City Mouse—" Jim was cut off.

"They are mice, but they talk?" Spock asked.

"Well, it's a fantasy story, it's not literal. Just keep listening. So... where was I?" Jim asked, having lost his train of thought.

"Country Mouse and City Mouse go the city together," Spock added helpfully. Jim laughed.

"Yeah, that's it. So Country Mouse gets to the city, and he really likes it. There are parties and lots of interesting people and plenty of trash for the mice to eat because the people are so wasteful. So City Mouse and Country Mouse decide to trade houses. City Mouse goes to the country to live and City Mouse goes the city. At first it's great, but after a while, they get homesick and miss each other. In the country, City Mouse is lonely without a lot of people to talk to and the wild animals scare him at night. He doesn't like doing country work either. He wishes that Country Mouse was there with him, because he'd know what to do. In the city, Country Mouse is stressed out because of all the noise and the people and he can't sleep, plus all the stray cats terrify him and chase him around. And he finds out that the humans don't want him around and they're always trying to kill him. He misses City Mouse's help. So City Mouse and Country Mouse each go back home, and meet up on the way, and they both are homesick. They both agree to trade houses again and go home and live happily ever after, only visiting each other once in while, always together... I think the moral is that they both needed each other's special skills to help them live together. City Mouse couldn't live in the country without Country Mouse and vice versa."

Spock contemplated the story for a moment.

"Is this story commonly told by humans?" he asked.

"Well, it's a little kid story. It's supposed to teach you about how your differences can be useful. Humans are pretty diverse. Sometimes when stuff is different, we get scared of it, because we don't know what it's like. That's what Dad says. But you're different and I'm not afraid of you. I thought, you're kinda like Country Mouse, used to the quiet desert, and I'm like City Mouse, used to noisy Earth."

This gave Spock pause.

"Are you here alone?" he inquired. Jim shrugged, smile fading.

"My dad is in Starfleet. He's not home a whole lot. Mom is too. They're both working right now. My older brother, Sam, he's fifteen. He watches me sometimes, but mostly it's my uncle. Sam doesn't like our uncle because he's really strict and old-fashioned so whenever mom says we have to go to his house Sam leaves and stays with our granddad. Our uncle doesn't really care where I go as long as I'm home before dark."

"Do you dislike your uncle?" Spock asked.

"Sometimes. He's a little bit of a jerk," Jim admitted. He and Spock sat in silence for a moment before Spock stood, after noticing Sarek stand as well. Jim, momentarily confused, reached up and grabbed Spock's hand. Spock pulled his hand away sharply, but not before feeling a host of unfettered emotions: hot pink embarrassment, muddy confusion, searingly warm, pink pity, light friendly affection, and murky hesitance, along with a dark, blue depression that left a deep ache in both boys' chests. Jim frowned, unsure of what had just happened, but aware of one thing—he felt Spock. In that moment, he felt Spock's soul, all its colors and emotions, guarded and locked away, as if passing by it. Close enough to touch its shell but not so close as to delve into it. He also felt Spock's shock, disgust, embarrassment, shame, grief, and something deeper he couldn't name. It was foreign to Jim and deep and primal and not quite love, and it had been sparked by their hands touching. 

He wanted to feel it again.

•••

"Hey, there," Jim called, flashing a smile and trying his best to seem flippant. The Vulcan before him, taller and broader since he'd seen him last, almost two years ago, cocked an eyebrow and raised his hand in the traditional ta'al to mirror Jim's own gesture. In his other arm he held tightly a bouquet of white roses.

"James Tiberius Kirk," Spock said, nodding in recognition.

"You remember," Jim chuckled

"Vulcans do not forget."

"Well, I'm flattered either way. Whatcha doing here?" Jim questioned.

"I am here to, as humans refer to it, 'pay my respects' to my mother. Today marks the anniversary of her death, and, as she encouraged me often to embrace my human heritage, I have come to observe the human tradition of visiting one's deceased family members on this day," Spock's inflection was unchanged, but Jim sensed there was more to his visit than just observing human culture.

"Oh..." Jim wasn't sure what to say. They stood in silence for a moment.

"In addition, my father is remarrying in the Terran traditional ceremony. He is already bonded in the Vulcan way to Perrin Landover of London, England."

"Woah, are you... okay with that?"

"I have neither the authority to question my fathers choices nor the right."

"But that doesn't mean you don't want to."

Spock's eyes flickered away for a fraction of a second, but Jim noticed. He was keen on people, and similar humanoids.

"Sorry, sorry, that's not my business," Jim apologized. He was having a foot-in-mouth kind of day.

"You have done nothing for which to apologize," Spock responded. While his tone was brusque, the words comforted Jim slightly.

"Am I keeping you?"

"There is no specific time that I must arrive at the cemetery. If you would be amenable to accompanying me, you may do so."

"Woah, really? I mean, if this is personal I'll totally leave you alone. I don't—"

"You are not intruding," Spock interrupted. Jim sensed vague annoyance in his tone. He smiled sheepishly, face hot. He felt stupid and childish, and recently he'd been trying his damnedest to seem like anything but the latter.

"Where's the place?" Jim asked. "The one down the street?" Spock nodded once. Jim stared in the direction of the familiar cemetery for a few seconds.

"I'd be happy to come with," he said with a shrug and a half-hearted smile. After a moment of awkward silence, once again, both boys made their way down the sidewalk to the picturesque resting place. It had high, iron gates with dark ivy curling around them and trimmed cherry trees lining the walkway. They were just outside the city, early in the morning. Without tall building to cast shadows, the sunbeams fell upon the tombstones glitteringly, and the cemetery could almost be serene, if not for the corpses Jim imagined below the surface. Spock showed him the way to his mother's tombstone— a newer, light gray headstone engraved in English with, "Amanda Stemple Grayson". Below that, Jim read the dates, "2200 – 2243". Only forty-three years old, he thought. She wasn't even that old yet. He resisted the childish urge to ask what happened, what could've killed her at that age. In large, sweeping characters Jim couldn't recognize, though they resembled Arabic, another phrase had been written. He assumed it was Vulcan.

He pointed to the script and asked, "Spock, what's that say?"

"In English it reads, 'Cherished wife and mother'," he replied. If Jim didn't know any better, he'd think Spock's voice was just a little softer. He suspected even Vulcans loved their guardians.

"That's... nice. I'm sure she was a really good person."

"She was... an exemplary member of her species," Spock agreed. Jim knelt before the grave reverently. He didn't quite catch what Spock said to him then, but he lowered his head and whispered an almost-prayer to Amanda. He wasn't religious— these days, almost no one was, but he felt he needed to do something to honor the dead. Spock fell silent. After a moment of ponderous silence, Jim stood to face Spock. They stood in silence as the wind picked up and the last of the cherry blossoms fluttered in the breeze. Soon the trees would bear fruit, but he knew no one would get to eat it before the birds. No one bothered to net the trees. He smiled weakly as a pink petal settled on Spock's shoulder. Jim brushed it off casually.

"It's snowing on you," Jim murmured. He hesitated briefly before asking, "Would you... like to be alone, for a moment?"

"No," he began gradually. "I do not wish to linger here for long." He placed the almost-forgotten bouquet of roses, removing the plastic wrapping, beside her headstone. The ivory petals quivered in the morning breeze ever so gently as a nearly whole cherry blossom landed on the roses. Jim tore his gaze away and looked at Spock.

"Mom gave me twenty dollars this morning before she left— wanna go get something to eat?" Jim offered as they made their way out of the cemetery.

"I do not require sustenance currently," Spock denied.

"Well... come sit with me somewhere while I eat, then."

"Since my presence is required nowhere for the time being, I can accompany you to an eatery."

They walked in silence for a moment, Jim smiling, but not quite wholeheartedly yet. It seemed unbecoming to act happily after such a morose event. But that didn't mean he wasn't happy that Spock had accepted his offer.

When they got to the twentieth century themed diner Jim had suggested, there weren't many patrons, and they secured a booth next to the window, Jim's favorite spot. Spock sat across from him. When the waiter came by, a college student with an impatient attitude, Spock didn't order and Jim ordered cheap, hoping to conserve his meager allowance. He was almost grateful Spock had decided not eat, but he felt guilty for thinking so.

"So, Spock, what are you gonna do here on Earth after school? I don't know any other Vulcans. You seem pretty smart, so I bet you could do whatever you wanted to," Jim began, trying to start some small talk between the two.

"If you are referring to a future career choice, I plan on applying at Starfleet Academy and becoming a science officer for Starfleet," he informed Jim coolly. Jim was impressed.

"Are there any Vulcans in Starfleet?" he inquired.

"None, as far as my knowledge extends."

"That's pretty cool, then! You're the first for a lotta things, you know. Bet you'd make a damn good First Officer," Jim joked.

"Is that an example of the human colloquialism known as a 'pun'?" Spock questioned, eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Jim noted that quirk, thinking it was kind of cute. He mentally berated himself for that thought immediately afterward.

"Yeah, I'm full of 'em. I know they're kind of stupid," he chuckled in response, ears red.

"They are an interesting form of communication." At this, Jim laughed outright. So, Spock liked wordplay? Noted.

"So after school for me, I'm gonna join the 'Fleet, too, you know. But I'm aiming higher than a science officer, no offense. I wanna protect the Federation," Jim announced proudly. He thanked the waiter who approached them and gave Jim his lunch— fries, a burger, and an apple juice.

"No offense was taken. That is a noble goal," Spock allowed. Jim was thankful for the tiny almost-compliment, but he let the heat rising in his face show his gratitude for him, silently. They spent the rest of the meal talking about their goals for the future, Spock being relatively quiet as Jim detailed all the opportunities for adventure they'd have.

Thus began an unlikely, enduring, and often long distance friendship.

•••

Somewhere else in the galaxy, two events occur that are sure to alter the boys' now intertwined fates forever.

The first change is made when Jim's parents make the decision to move the family to a new colony on a planet known as Tarsus. They expect to arrive shortly before Jim's thirteenth birthday.

The second change occurs when two Romulan Birds-of-Prey and the USS Lincoln clash, both ships returning home with heavy casualties. There is no doubt in the minds of the Federation that there will be a retaliation.

•••

Jim stood in the hot, Tennessee sunlight for a brief, beautiful moment. He'd made his decision, and he couldn't—wouldn't—go back on it now. The woods surrounding his granddad's place whispered secrets to each other as the wind blew through. That's what he pictured anyway—trees, like people, bending to whisper into each other's ears. Summer had crept up on the Volunteer state like a cottonmouth in the water—slowly at first, then too quick to see, and finally, biting painfully. The thermometer on the porch was antique, an old piece that still used mercury and Fahrenheit measurements. A hundred five degrees. He sweated beneath the collar of his button-up. 

All he could see from the ancient porch was trees in all directions. Compared to the openness of Iowa, it felt like a cage. It had been two years since Tarsus, but still, the feeling of being trapped unnerved him, reminding him people standing in rows awaiting their fate. Everyone in the Kirk family was spared, for being "productive" citizens. Both of his parents made a lot of money and paid a lot of taxes. Governor Kodos was pleased with them. Four thousand others were not so lucky. Jim shivered to think of it. Faces he recognized, like the little girls who jumped rope across the street from the Kirks' residence, and faces that he hadn't seen until after they were pale and lifeless flashed through his mind. He couldn't escape these thoughts. No one really could. His parents buried themselves in their work, not coming home for months on end, to cope. Sam... was Sam. He met up with the girl he'd left back on Earth before Tarsus and they were living on some distant planet together, happily. Jim couldn't begrudge him his happiness, but it didn't make him feel any less lonely. 

First, his parents made him stay with Uncle Frank in San Francisco. When he tried run away, they put him up with his grandfather in Iowa. When that didn't work either, they thought a change of pace would help, so they sent him to his other grandparents in Tennessee. Jim felt the same everywhere: trapped, lonely, and stir crazy. Every night the stars taunted him, called to him to join them. He swore he would.

But he'd talked to his mom the day before, and he finally conceded. He'd go back to Riverside and finish school, and he'd be damned if he didn't finish top of his class and get into Starfleet Academy. It was all he had left, and the goal gave him something to distract himself with, to bury himself in. He understood why his parents had buried themselves in their work, now.

Jim stepped off the creaky wooden porch slowly and picked a blackberry flower off the thorny bushes lining the gravel driveway. He almost regretted that he'd miss the berries. He liked blackberries, but he'd never had them wild before. It would've been nice to try. Maybe in a different life, a different time. He doubted he'd see a wild blackberry bush for a long time. He tucked the delicate white flower into his shirt pocket. 

The flower would not survive the journey to Riverside in one piece.

•••

"I did it... I did it! I did it!" Jim called out to no one in particular. He'd made it into Starfleet, after all those years of studying his ass off. He nearly jumped in the air, he was laughing so hard. His best friend Gary Mitchell, who'd watched him open the message on his PADD, clapped him on the back proudly.

"Hell yeah, Jim. You did it," he laughed. Jim punched the air excitedly.

"Oh, to Hell with this town! I'm going to be an admiral someday, I'll be damned!" Jim called gleefully, as he sprinted home. He was going to call his mother immediately, tell her the news, and arrange to be transported right after graduation to San Francisco. Oh, how he'd missed San Francisco summers!

And Spock! Jim was going to see Spock face-to-face for the first time since he'd left for Tarsus. He'd studied Vulcan language and culture independently for years now, and he couldn't wait to demonstrate to Spock what he'd learned, right to his adorable pointy eyebrows. Jim was too excited to even be embarrassed at the thought as he got home and blew past his granddad.

•••

"Hey there," Jim drawled, grinning happily. Spock turned around to greet him, and Jim pretended Spock was smiling as big as he himself was, a comical thought.

"James Tiberius Kirk," Spock monotoned, nodding. Jim smiled back, raising his hand in the ta'al. Spock followed suit.

"Spock," he grinned. "I missed your face, buddy!"

"It is indeed preferable to converse with you directly rather than via a communication device," Spock agreed. Jim almost hugged him for that, but they'd known each other long enough that Jim knew it wouldn't be appreciated on Spock's part.

"How've you been?" Jim entreated.

"I am without complaint."

"I'm gonna die waiting for summer break to end!" Jim joked. Spock cocked a brow, but he remained silent.

"You are extremely anxious for your classes to begin this fall," Spock observed.

"No kidding."

"Vulcans do not 'kid', Jim."

"I know, Spock," Jim laughed again. "That's why I love you." Spock's eyebrow drifted toward his perfectly blunt bangs but he said nothing. Jim blushed, looking ahead instead of at Spock, but still smiling.

"So, what's it like?"

"Clarify."

"What's Starfleet Academy like?"

"The classes are engaging, for the most part, and the resources are extremely useful. I have learned a great deal about the inner workings of a starship."

"I'll bet you didn't need to learn much, bet you're top of the class!" Jim said good-naturedly, through an eager smile.

"Indeed," Spock responded, sounding neither overly proud nor too humble.

"Well, I've gotta get my stuff moved in, wanna come with?" Jim requested, his arm hovering over his luggage as if for emphasis. Spock nodded once, sharply. Jim smiled. He chattered on and on as they walked the last block to Frank's apartment. He may not have liked Frank very much, but his parents trusted him and he did, too, even if Frank preferred to kick him out of the house every day to be on his own. He liked it, sometimes. He was always fed and never bothered, at the very least.

After taking the lift up to his home for a little while longer, he and Spock each took a seat in the guest-room-turned-Jim's-room for a while. It hadn't changed much, except it needed a good dusting and Frank had moved some junk in there as storage. He could clean it out later. Spock sat in the swivel desk chair and Jim plopped down on the still-familiar bed.

"So, Spock, any updates? Made some new friends?"

"I have become acquainted with several of the students at the academy," he answered.

"No friends? No girlfriend? Boyfriend?" Jim waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I do not have a romantic counterpart, Jim."

"Hard to believe, with your charming personality!" Jim joked.

"You are being facetious."

"Only a little, you've certainly charmed me," Jim said, laughter dying and smile faltering just slightly. He was a little more serious than he let on. He idly fingered the belt loops of his shorts, feeling a little awkward now. Spock still hadn't responded, but his eyes remained on Jim, watching the red creep up Jim's neck and ears and bloom across his cheekbones with mild interest. Jim was very aware of Spock now, and it made his face even hotter.

"So... uh..." he began, searching desperately for a change of topic. Spock stood and walked over to sit on the bed, still a good foot away from Jim, but Jim was very aware of the proximity.

"Jim," he started, his voice low. "It is... pleasing to see you again." Jim nearly squealed. He wanted to curl up into his bed and scream, he was so giddy.

"Thanks, Spock," was all he said. Spock leaned toward him, his eyelids fluttering briefly. Jim froze, unsure of how to react, and Spock pulled away. Jim opened his eyes, only then realizing he'd shut them. His face was flushed and his breathing slightly faster, nervous. He and Spock held each others' gazes for a moment, but eventually, Spock looked away, ears tinged green. 

Both boys ignored what had almost just happened.

•••

He'd done it. He'd maybe cheated a little on his Kobayashi Maru, but Jim had made it into Starfleet. He had a ship to captain as well, with his best friend Spock by his side! But it wasn't going to be the adventure he'd expected. 

All was no longer well in the galaxy, and the Romulans had become openly hostile to the Federation. Jim'd been assigned to a ship and assigned to military aid, rather than the adventurous exploration he'd hoped for. There just weren't resources for exploration when Romulans were trying to kill anything that strayed a little too far from the flock. Jim's crew was a good one, so he couldn't complain about that, though. Spock was his first officer, thankfully, and everyone else was the best Starfleet had. 

He was ready to take on the universe.

•••

"George Kirk was killed in a border skirmish". Jim's mind failed to process the news. After a few seconds of trying, all he could remember was silence. He sank to the floor of his quarters, shoulders heaving.

•••

"Captain? Captain?!" Jim heard the frantic voice of Hikaru Sulu startling him conscious. He sat up quickly, too quickly, and he immediately regretted it as a sharp pain plagued his head. He groaned and felt hands on him, Sulu's, easing him back onto the cold, hard cell floor.

"Wh-what happened, Lieutenant?" he murmured weakly.

"We were attacked. They've taken us prisoner." Here, Sulu shuddered and Jim groaned as he regained feeling in his extremities. They were silent for a blessed, peaceful moment, then, with a clattering sound, light flooded the cell. A Romulan with a vicious expression entered, eyes gleaming.

•••

Darkness. For a long time there is only confusion and darkness and white-hot, searing pain, and Jim's left with his memories. They come back to him in fragmented bursts:

Winona leaving him and Sam with their uncle for the first time. He was two.

The musk of pear blossoms in a park when he was eleven. Making them "snow" into Spock's hair and Spock brushing them out.

Getting made fun at school of for wearing glasses and deciding they weren't worth the trouble.

A cherry blossom resting in a bouquet of white roses.

Four thousand faces looking up at Jim, wondering what had made them less important than he.

A pale Tennessee blackberry blossom, drying up and breaking in his shirt pocket.

His father, watching him receive his captaincy and smiling proudly.

Becoming best friends with Leonard "Sawbones" McCoy, eventually just "Bones". Drinking whiskey and confiding in him after the worst nightmares.

His crew. Sulu making a stupid joke. Uhura singing on the bridge. Scotty babbling about something Jim couldn't quite grasp. Chekov. Christine. Janice.

Spock.

Spock sitting next to him on his bed. Spock sort of admitting to missing him. Spock almost kissing him when Jim was barely eighteen. Spock's smell. Spock's hair. Spock's brown eyes. Spock's sharp features and long fingers. The way Spock's shoulders stretched the blue of his uniform.

"Spock..."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and critique, please! ^_^


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